


A Night at the Lake

by ssclassof56



Series: Then Live With Me and Be My Love [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 15:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10699707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssclassof56/pseuds/ssclassof56
Summary: The Kuryakin children spend an evening with their Uncle Alexander.





	A Night at the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal's MFU Map Room for a Section7MFU - Short Affair Challenge  
> Prompts: guest / copper

“’For, standing within the narrow chamber of rock, was the form of a man—or, at least, it seemed like a man, in the dim light.’”

Alexander Waverly paused, then cleared his throat. The sound drew the attention of the little girl perched on the arm of his Adirondack chair. She pulled her mesmerized gaze from the dancing flames of the fire pit and reached over to turn the page.

“Very slow, Miss Kuryakin,” Waverly said with exaggerated gravity. “I expect faster responses from my agents.”

“Yes, Uncle ‘Xander,” Liliya replied in the same tone, her blue eyes sparkling with pleasure. She popped her thumb into her mouth and laid her head on his shoulder.

Waverly adjusted his glasses, one of the few concessions he had made to entering his ninth decade, and resumed reading.

“’He was only about as tall as Dorothy herself, and his body was round as a ball and made out of burnished copper.’”

In the late summer twilight, Waverly continued to relate Dorothy’s discovery of Tiktok the Mechanical Man. Liliya’s brothers chased fireflies as he read, protesting that they could do both things at once when Waverly demanded to know if they were listening. Eventually the twins collapsed onto a blanket and watched the stars begin to come out.

Waverly turned up the flame on the lantern hanging by his chair and started a new chapter. A tremendous gurgling noise interrupted him mid-sentence, sending Liliya into giggles.

“The seismometer at the university probably picked that up, young man,” Waverly said.

“That was nothing. You should hear it in the morning,” Léon declared proudly, patting his stomach.

“It's our alarm clock,” Sasha added.

“Quite a reliable one, I’m sure.” Waverly closed the well-worn copy of _Ozma of Oz._ “Perhaps this would be a good time to pause our story and make dessert.”

With a whoop of excitement, both boys sprang up from the blanket. In no time, Léon had a branch of marshmallows toasting over the fire, while Sasha arranged graham crackers and chocolate on a tray with mathematical precision.

“Hey,” Sasha protested, as his twin crammed the first batch of warm marshmallows into his mouth.

Léon swallowed the gooey mouthful with visible effort. "What? I'm starving. Pass me some more.” He ducked as Sasha hurled the bag at his head.

After handing off a second toasted batch to his brother, Léon walked outside the circle of firelight to the edge of the lake. In the moonlight, the water shone silver. “Ma and Pop said they’d be back in time for s’mores. I wonder if they forgot.” He flicked a stone at the lake, sending it skipping across the surface.

“Six. Well done,” Waverly called. “When I was a lad, we called that ‘ducks and drakes.’”

“Pop calls it ‘pech blini,’” Sasha said, continuing to carefully assemble the s’mores.

“’Baking pancakes,” Liliya translated.

“Pancakes, indeed.” Waverly watched the circles ripple and expand, then raised his gaze to the floating platform anchored in the center of the lake. He could just make out two figures, one in the water, the other seated on the platform. The moonlight gleamed more brightly off the head of the swimmer, marking the fair-haired Kuryakin.

“I wonder why they didn’t let us come swimming with them tonight.” Léon waved his arm above his head. The figure on the platform waved back. Then, with a surprised shriek of laughter that carried clearly across the water, she tumbled into the lake.

Liliya turned to Waverly in concern, and he patted her arm. “Don’t worry, my dear. I believe your father just played a bit of a trick on your mother, that’s all.”

Léon remained at the water’s edge, straining his eyes toward the platform. “Pop’s gonna pay for that.”

Waverly watched the two figures cut smoothly through the water, heading for the other shore, Kuryakin’s fair head in the lead. “Well, young Alexander, you can remove two places. A couple of our guests will be—ahem—detained.”

“Dibs on theirs,” Léon shouted and dove for the tray.

For a few minutes, only the chirping of crickets, the lapping of the water, and the crackling of the fire were heard as they enjoyed their dessert, Waverly’s made even sweeter by the knowledge that his physician would not approve. Feeling well-fed and generous, Léon called his sister over and coached her in the fine art of ‘baking pancakes.’ Soon all three children were sending stones skipping across the moonlit lake.

Waverly watched them with an indulgent smile and pulled a pipe and tobacco pouch from his pocket. No doubt his agents (an appellation even retirement would not change) soon would return from their evening escapade to reclaim their offspring. His own wife Marjorie would be home from her Bridge Club within the hour. As his fingers carried out the well-practiced process of filling and tamping, he whispered to himself, “I wonder if I could convince her to join me for a late night swim.”


End file.
